


Trick of the Light

by red_scully



Series: Dark and Light [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Biting, Dark Rey (Star Wars), F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Bond Shenanigans, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Masturbation, Rough Sex, The Force Ships It, not beta read because I have no Reylo friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22173082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_scully/pseuds/red_scully
Summary: Kylo Ren has had dark visions ever since he was a teenager.He welcomes them when they come: they reassure him that he's on the right path, making the right decisions, heading towards what the Force has planned for him.But recently he's having dreams.Dreams which scare him.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Dark and Light [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596034
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	Trick of the Light

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the Kylo/Ben POV for part 1 of the series, All In Your Head. Some of the dialogue in this fic probably won't make sense unless you read part 1 first.

Kylo Ren has had dark visions ever since he was a teenager.

He welcomes them when they come: they reassure him that he's on the right path, making the right decisions, heading towards what the Force has planned for him.

But recently he's having dreams.

Dreams which scare him.

\---

When he and Rey killed Snoke, he thought that would be the end of it all. The end of the voices in his head, taunting him, telling him he was a failure. The end of the Force bond playing cruel games with the two of them, dropping them in each other's rooms late at night, or in each other's way during training sessions.

But she didn't join him. The visions were apparently just a possible path, not _the_ path - and they stopped when they didn't come true that day in the throne room. She didn't take his hand; she didn't let down her hair and climb into his lap and let the dark slip inside her.

The Force bond tricks continued - although, mercifully, he hasn't seen her in a few weeks now.

The cruel voices changed, but the message is the same.

And the dreams... they're showing him a different path. He wakes at night with tears on his face, with trembling hands and a hard-on and a pain in his chest.

He suspects her, after a few days, of using the Force to plant them in his head. The nature of the bond is still a mystery to him: perhaps Luke has taught her how to use it to her advantage, to attempt the act of inception, placing the thoughts in his mind when he sleeps?

After eight nights, he's beside himself, and furious. Rey _must_ be doing this; perhaps she's trying to turn him. He has got to stop her before the dark forces break into the part of his mind where he's hiding the dreams, see them, and punish him. But he's on a week-long mission with no access to a library, and he can't very well take a detour to hunt down ancient texts about Jedi mind tricks, or Sith manuals on blocking them. He has no choice: he'll have to stay awake until they return to base.

\--

By the third night he feels drunk with exhaustion. His head spins and his legs wobble. He rages about on the ship, throwing troopers on the ceiling if they look at him wrong, making unreasonable demands of everyone he speaks with, trying to fill his mind with so much work, so many things happening, so many plans and plots and schemes that there's no space for visions, torturous or otherwise.

It's working, he tells himself. Just one more day on this mission, and then he will find the answer, and the dreams will stop.

But his eyes are so heavy and his entire body aches. The ship is quiet as most of the crew has turned in; sitting in his quarters, he hears the sound of a cleaning droid skitter past the door, doing the overnight shift. He should take a shower to wake himself up. He strips down to his underwear, then sits down on the edge of the bed, just giving himself a few minutes.

\---  
__

_It's quiet._

_Two suns rise outside._

_The sheets are scratchy against his face._

_Her skin is smooth and tanned and warm as she presses against him._

_She's kissing him gently, rocking her hips against his with a sweet urgency._

_Her hands tangle in his hair._

_She calls him Ben._

_He's crying, and she wipes the tears from his face._

_She pulls him closer._

_She loves him, she whispers._

_He wants this._

_He needs this._

_He can see she's close now._

_He wants them to come together, whispering each other's names._

__  
\---

He's being shaken awake by small, strong hands. He feels Rey's presence before he even opens his eyes; the bond pops and hisses and she's there in his bed, back against the wall, breathing heavily, her hair wild and her shirt riding up her thighs, and he's trying to concentrate on what she's saying but he can't shake the dream, still feels her sliding against him.

He shakes his head and the sheet shifts in his lap. He's hard, really hard, and the friction takes him by surprise. He blinks, looks her over. He can see too much of her thighs; he can tell she has no underthings on. He remembers the sweet urgency of the vision, the warmth of her skin. He can't concentrate on their argument.

"Aren't you going to explain yourself? And since when do you materialise in my bed?"

Her voice sounds off, somehow, but maybe he's just imagining it because the dream is still heavy around him, pulling at him, making him want things. He pushes the image from his mind, tries to draw himself up a little, make himself taller and intimidating. She looks gorgeous in the dim light. He thinks of suns rising in the desert, of whispers in his ear. He touches himself, not caring, hoping she'll vanish so he can finish, but then she's asking him about a dream and suddenly he is so, so awake.

"What dream, Rey?"

She's trying to break into his mind, and for a second he almost hands her his own vision on a platter, almost gives in to the temptation of her light, almost wants to fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness for his sins. But he hears that voice in his head, telling him he's weak and pathetic, and at the last second he pushes back, shoving her out, and then he dives into her mind instead and sees something he never expected.

It's the throne visions he was having before they killed Snoke. They're in her head, now, and he feels through the bond that she was lying before, lying about them being vile, lying about wanting them to stop. He pulls back and looks at her. She's shaking. She's touching herself, and watching him as he does the same, squeezing his aching cock. She's dark right now: her force signature is pounding with it.

It's such a relief from the dreams that he can't stop himself. He needs to drown in the darkness.

She tastes sweet, her skin is warm, and he can't get inside her fast enough. She's so wet, so ready for him, he can barely stand it. He fucks her against the wall, closing his eyes, focusing on her vision, letting it flow between them like electricity, as he grips her thighs hard enough to bruise. He wants to write his name on her, mark her as his, all his. She moans and bites his lip, and he tastes his blood on her tongue. It's dangerous, delicious. She whispers in his ear, but not sweet words; no, she's begging him for more, telling him to fuck her harder. He's possessed by desire now, as he pulls her onto her back, strips her naked and presses his cock back into her. The bed shakes and knocks against the nightstand, sending a glass of water tumbling to the floor where it smashes. The bond is pulsing, humming, vibrating between them and they bask in the heat. She wants his hand on her throat and he obliges, soaking up the power of the darkness, because this is what he should want, this frenzied filthy fucking. He should not focus on how strikingly _beautiful_ she manages to be even as she's clawing at him, forcing him deeper inside and begging him to hurt her and slides her hand down their bodies to rub herself shamelessly to orgasm around his dick. He feels her climax over the bond like a bomb going off, and when he comes, hard and howling with her finger in his mouth, he sees two suns in his mind's eye, like the afterimage of a mushroom cloud.

Afterwards, as they lay together, sweaty and conflicted and tangled, he prods at her mind, trying to reclaim the vision for himself. But it won't move, and anyway, the space he has for it is still occupied.

He holds her hand, pushes down the feeling that's burning in his chest, looks into her eyes.

She's scared, he realises.

His stomach lurches. He wants to tell her things he swore he'd never say. He wants to tear the dream out of her, ease her suffering, ease his own.

Instead, he looks at the image in her head once more, feels her writhe wantonly below him as she sees it too, and makes her a promise.

The bond breaks, and he's not sure if it's a cruel trick or a small mercy.

She disappears from his bed and he's alone. The air unit hums, a droid trundles past outside, the sweat on his body starts to evaporate. The voices in his head are starting to murmur.

Tears spring to his eyes before he can stop them. He lets them fall. He can feel Rey's conflict across the bond as she grapples with the darkness. He feels scratchy sheets on his face, tastes unsaid words on his lips. He wants to send them to her. He wants the voices to stop. He wants to fuck her until she turns. He pulls the sheet over his head and wills sleep to come, reaching for some peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I did it! Part 2 of the series! This one was hard to get right, guys, so I really hope you liked it. I may do some more stories within this particular universe if the muse takes me.
> 
> Come see me on Tumblr! https://redredreylo.tumblr.com


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